


Fuck Standards

by intotheruins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Meg, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Castiel, Rimming, Rough Foreplay, Rough Sex, Spanking (implied), Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither of them were anything resembling “traditional.” They both liked it that way. Written for the College AU square on my spn kink bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck Standards

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written M/F and ABO, so... hopefully it's okay. :D

He met her at one of Gabe's infamous parties.

To be fair, Gabriel's parties were infamous partially because of him. The omega who wouldn't back down. He was proud of that title—it was meant to be an insult, thrown in his face because he wouldn't behave like a “traditional omega.” Only in Castiel's experience, traditional was hardly anything more than a fantasy.

Gabriel, his beta cousin, was an equal rights activist on top of being one of the world's most enthusiastic partiers. Which meant that anyone who showed up to his parties was someone Castiel usually actually wanted to associate with. Even the Alphas, though they were rare. Gabriel assured him that more of them were starting to come around to the idea that omegas weren't just fuck-toys, but Castiel still tended to keep the company of betas and other omegas. It was just easier.

Which brought him back to _her._

Today's party was being held in the house Gabriel and Castiel were renting together. Neither of them could stand living on campus, not enough privacy. Even if they did have at least half the college packed into their living room and front yard right now, at least they had the option to kick them out whenever they wanted. Castiel was making his way towards the table littered with every type of alcohol under the sun—it was highly likely some of them were even illegal—because he was getting a little tired of the sympathetic looks. He had a black eye and a fantastic bruise across his bicep, the myriad of colors just peaking out of the sleeve of his black t-shirt. If people would just come up and _talk_ to him about it, that would be fine, but instead they kept holding back, uncertain.

He hated it when people were timid around him. It made him feel brittle.

Scowl in place, shoulders squared and blue eyes daring anyone with that look to say something, Castiel stalked up to the table and snatched the first bottle he saw. Whiskey. Perfect. One more thing he wasn't supposed to like as an omega.

He'd knocked back a good quarter of the bottle before the burn kicked in enough that he had to lower it to breathe.

“Predator.”

The voice came right behind him, a low kind of purr. Castiel spun around, bottle still clenched firmly in his fist. The woman behind him was short, with a round face and wavy, dark brown hair. There was a smirk on her lips and she had one eyebrow quirked in a way that was both confident and kind of adorable.

She also reeked of alpha, once Castiel got a good whiff of her.

“What was that?” he asked. He took another long pull from the bottle, just to see what she would do.

She grinned. Interesting.

“I said 'predator,'” she answered, same low voice. “You smell like an omega, but you're clearly a predator. It's kinda turning me on.”

Briefly, Castiel stiffened because he'd had a similar reaction from alphas before. The ones who claimed to be into equal rights but really just turned “unusual” omegas into fetishes.

This one, though... she looked genuinely interested. And Castiel liked someone who spoke their mind so easily.

“I'm Castiel,” he offered. Didn't let go of the bottle to shake her hand—didn't think it was necessary.

“Meg.” She took a step closer and gestured to his eye. “Who'd you beat up?”

Okay, he liked her. “I took that spelunking class last weekend, there was an alpha in it who didn't think omegas belonged anywhere near anything physically strenuous. He wouldn't stop harassing me, even after the class was over. He tried to 'put me in my place' in the parking lot as I was walking to my car.”

“Wait.” Meg grinned. “That little blue car out front with the dent in the hood. Was that from his head?”

“Maybe. Do you want to go upstairs?”

“Fuck yes.”

~

Here was the thing: Castiel loved a good fight, and to submit... if he _chose_ to submit. He wanted his partners to earn it, not expect it, and he didn't want to be treated as though it were his place.

So when Meg didn't hold back, he felt they were off to a great start. The second Castiel's bedroom door closed she was on him, snarling and slamming him up against the door. When he threw her off, she grinned at him fiercely and came right back.

They were equal in strength. Castiel had a new bruise forming beneath his collar bone within minutes, and there was a deep red spot blooming across Meg's cheek where he'd slammed her into the wall. Clothes weren't so much removed as slowly torn off—Meg paused when Castiel's shirt fell away to reveal the full extent of the bruise on his arm. Her hand came up. Castiel was expecting a gentle brush, and instead was pleasantly surprised when she pressed into it, made the ache of it bloom deep under his skin.

And then without warning she twisted his arm around behind his back and kicked his knees out from under him, slamming him face down into the floor. Castiel grunted as the breath was forced from his chest, lay still a moment to gasp it back in as she held him down and straddled his thighs.

“Good?” she asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” he gasped.

“K. Just checkin'.”

Meg grabbed his other arm and Castiel let her pin them both behind his back. He shuddered when she slid up a little further, enough to grind a very firm and obvious bulge right against his ass. It made him slick so fast it was almost embarrassing.

“Okay, look,” Meg said breathlessly, still grinding against him. “I suck at talking things through. You know, communication and all that shit. But if there's anything you don't want me to do—“

“I want you to _fuck me,_ ” Castiel snarled, bucking back against her.

He could hear the grin in her voice when she said, “You got it,” and let go of his wrists to undo his pants and tear them off.

When Meg's weight lifted off of him, probably to remove the last of her clothes, Castiel took advantage to roll over.

“Am I gonna have to fight you again?” Meg asked, tone half teasing as she shrugged off her torn shirt and removed her bra. She had small, perky breasts that Castiel was suddenly very eager to get his hands on.

“You'll have to fight me right up until you get your dick in me,” Castiel confirmed with a cheeky grin.

Meg smirked and shimmied out of her tight jeans, somehow kicking her shoes off at the same time. “You mean this dick?”

She wasn't wearing underwear. Her cock had fully slipped from its sheath. Most alpha females were an average of four to five inches—Meg had to be over six. She probably couldn't even fully retract it. Castiel took a deep breath, pulling in the scent of arousal and shuddering when a fresh wave of slick soaked his thighs.

“Like what you see?” That teasing tone was still there, but there was something... off, almost nervous, in her gaze.

“Fuck yes,” Castiel breathed. “You don't get harassed over the size, do you? It's gorgeous.”

“Mostly teased,” Meg said lightly. Too lightly. “Few people freaked on me.” She dropped to her knees and crawled over him, lining up with his own hard cock and grinding there. “Whatever, they don't know what they're missing.”

Castiel whimpered and threw his head back, exposing his throat. He panted hard when Meg took him up on the offer and bit him right over the jugular, too light to cause any pain, but the potential threat of it still sent a punch of arousal-soaked fear rippling through his body.

“My dick isn't in you yet,” Meg murmured against his throat. She licked over the hint of her teethmarks before rearing back. “You gonna give up so easily?”

Castiel snarled and flipped her on her back.

The fight took them across the floor and right into the nightstand. Meg howled with laughter when a lamp tumbled over Castiel's back and a box of condoms bounced off her forehead. She was under him again, but for the moment she seemed content to stay there, fingers tangled with Castiel's and pinned down against the carpet, back arched as Castiel nuzzled at her breasts.

“Don't think they're too small?” Meg asked breathlessly, just a hint of that insecurity in her voice again.

Castiel didn't reply right away. Instead he latched on, shivering hard when he realized he could actually fit her entire breast in his mouth. He suckled and tongued at her nipple, encouraged by the way she moaned and arched even further off the floor.

“No,” he finally gasped when he pulled back. He let his forehead rest between them, enjoying the softness. “It's ridiculous anyway. All these standards.”

He let her hands go. Arms immediately wrapped around his back, one hand sliding up into his hair.

“Fuck standards,” Meg agreed heartily.

She flipped them again while Castiel was distracted by the hand in his hair. He didn't even care at this point. He practically purred as she continued to scratch lightly at his scalp with one hand while she worked a condom from the conveniently fallen box with the other.

“Look at that, I got you to calm down before I got inside you,” Meg teased. “Gonna let me stop petting you long enough to get this on?”

Castiel sighed heavily. “I suppose.”

They both held out for about two seconds before they were laughing again. Meg ripped open the condom and rolled it on quickly. Castiel bent his legs and let them fall open, grinning when Meg's gaze caught on the shine of slick that had flooded all the way to his knees.

“ _Shit,_ you're wet.” Meg reached up and ran a finger through the slick. Castiel bit his lip as he watched her slide that finger into her mouth, her eyes widening at the taste. “Oh, oh wow. Okay. You taste like... I dunno, like sweet pine? Does that even make sense?”

“You're not the first person to say it.”

Another fingerful disappeared into her mouth. This time her eyes fluttered closed, audibly sucking to get every last trace of flavor. When her finger slid free with an obscene little pop, Castiel almost lunged up and took it into his own mouth.

“Okay, so, can I fuck you with my tongue first?” Meg asked with a lewd grin. She laughed when Castiel grabbed the backs of his knees and hauled his legs up to his chest. “I'll take that as a yes.”

Castiel's rim had always been extremely sensitive. The first swipe of her tongue had him throwing his head back and trying to haul his legs further apart, anything to give her more access. Her slim, strong hands cupped his thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin as her tongue wriggled into his hole.

“Fuck, fuck.” Castiel's hands flew down to tangle in her long, soft hair, tugging, _demanding_ more.

Meg growled, the sound rumbling up from her chest and sinking into his flesh. She shoved in as deeply as she could, sucking at his rim and the sweet slick flooding out as fast as she could drink it down. Castiel wanted to tear himself open so she could climb right inside—he'd never had anyone eat him out so enthusiastically.

When Meg finally sat back her lips and chin were shiny, slick sliding in thick little drops down her throat. She breathed in deep, smiling, eyes fluttering closed as she took in his scent, and that was it. That was all he could handle. He rolled over onto his stomach and presented himself, twisting his head over his shoulder to smile encouragement.

Only Meg was frowning at him. Then there were hands on his hips, flipping him onto his back again. When he tilted his head in curiosity, she just grabbed his thighs and shoved his legs back up to his chest.

“I wanna see your face when you come,” she said.

She lined up and sank inside him before he could respond.

Castiel had taken bigger cocks in his life, but he didn't necessarily _like_ bigger. Meg was just right, filling him up without overwhelming him, sliding easily through his slick. He clenched around her, breathed in deep to take in the added punch of arousal swimming through her scent as her hips pressed up against his ass. Her hands clenched into his thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises—at least, he hoped it would. He wanted marks to remember this.

“How do you want it?” Meg asked. Her voice was annoyingly steady. Castiel wanted to see her come apart.

“Hard,” he growled. “Give it to me hard.”

She didn't disappoint. Bracing against his thighs, Meg pounded into him hard enough that each slap of flesh was more like a crack, sharp enough to sting. The angle meant she was only grazing his prostate, but Castiel didn't try to change position. He clenched around her, rocked his hips as much as he was able, but instead of trying to get himself off he slipped a hand between his legs and gripped tight around the base.

“What...” Meg cut off with a groan when Castiel began to rhythmically clench around her. “Ohhhh fuck, Cas, fuck, I'm gonna come.”

_Cas._ Gabriel called him Cassie sometimes, but that was the only nickname anyone had ever given him. He liked Cas.

“Do it,” Castiel encouraged, curling his fist all the more tightly around his cock.

Meg bared her teeth in a snarl, eyes squeezed shut, tossing back her head as she bucked wildly inside him.

There were _definitely_ going to be bruises on his thighs.

Slowly, eyes still closed, Meg eased out of him and flopped over on her back. She groped around with both hands until she'd managed to tie off the condom and toss it aside.

“You didn't come,” she murmured. Blindly, she felt around until she found his knee.

Castiel grabbed a new condom and tore open the packet. She opened his eyes as he rolled it on. Her nostrils flared, already-dilated pupils blowing just a little wider as she watched.

“If it's okay?” Castiel climbed over her on all fours.

She smiled, slow and wicked. “If you don't fuck me, you'll be in so much trouble. I'll probably have to spank you.”

Castiel froze. “Is this supposed to be motivation? I find that scenario extremely appealing.”

Tossing her arms around his neck, Meg dragged him in until they were breathing each other's air. “Next time, baby,” she whispered, and kissed him.

She tasted like his own slick and a hint of strawberries. They kissed until they were forced to pull away to breathe, and while they were gasping Meg threw her legs around his waist and pulled him inside her.

~

The next morning, Castiel woke up in a nest of blankets on the floor beside his bed. Both used condoms were gone, and a glass of water had been placed on the nightstand next to a note. _Had an awesome time. See you around._

Castiel downed the water and rushed through a shower and finding his clothes. It was Monday, which meant he didn't have class until 11am. It was only 7.

The kitchen was a mess of beer bottles and miscellaneous snack foods. Gabriel was passed out on the kitchen table, spread-eagled, wearing nothing but his boxers and a fake mustache. Castiel paused only long enough to snap a picture for potential future blackmail (though it was highly unlikely, Gabe was shameless) and ran out the door without stopping for breakfast.

He had no last name, no phone number, not even a Major he could use to track down classes. The campus was small, but it still spanned nine blocks and contained buildings he'd never even set foot in.

He didn't care. He was going to find her.

After three hours of searching buildings and asking around, Castiel got lucky in one of the music buildings. A woman named Ruby—sarcastic and sharp, but willing to talk to Castiel, if with a suspicious stare the entire time—told him her last name was Masters, and that she could always be found in the cafeteria around a half an hour before lunch ended, lurking somewhere in the corner away from the majority of people.

He found her in a booth at the back of the building, scribbling notes on a wrinkled piece of staff paper, an empty plate shoved towards the edge of the table and a huge styrofoam cup of what smelled like root beer in front of her. She glanced up when Castiel slid into the seat opposite her, only a brief widening of her gaze giving away any surprise.

“Hey,” she said. “How did you—“

“Go on a date with me.”

Meg blinked. “What?”

“Go on a date with me,” Castiel repeated. Then, “Please.”

Dark eyes stared at him for a full minute before she let out a brief, startled laugh. “Seriously?”

Castiel scowled. “Yes, seriously. I've spent six hours looking for you and I missed two classes. I never miss class. I am very serious.”

“Why?”

It was Castiel's turn to blink. “What?”

“Why do you want to go on a date?”

“Because you treated me like an equal,” Castiel said. “Because I want to know what kind of music you're writing, and if you play anything. I want to know how you became friends with Ruby—she's the one who told me to find you here. I want to know how you ended up at Gabriel's party, and I absolutely want to have more sex with you.”

That got him another laugh, fuller this time. Castiel grinned, and added quickly, “If you don't want to know me just say so. I just had to ask.”

“Nah, I definitely wanna know anyone who can fight and fuck as well as you, and anyone bold enough to speak their damn mind. Ditch whatever classes you have left, let's go get pizza and I'll tell you what this is.” She waved the staff paper, half-full of notes that meant nothing to Castiel. Yet.

“Deal.” Castiel stood, leaning on the table while he waited for Meg to shove her paper and pen back into her backpack. “As long as it's not Pizza Hut. There's a better place just a few blocks from here.”

~

Castiel didn't come home until nearly midnight. They spent hours at in the restaurant, followed by a few more hours in Meg's cramped studio apartment. By the time he stumbled through the front door, Castiel was fucked out and barely able to walk, a stupid grin plastered to his face.

His ass was also burning in the most pleasant way, a bright red secret under his jeans from her firm hand.

In his pocket was a scrap of paper with a phone number and a date and time. Castiel pulled it out when he was in the safety of his room, stupid grin still refusing to leave his face.

It was September 8 th  . He couldn't _wait_ for the 15  th .

~

END

 


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